I hate her. I hate her now & I'll hate her with my dying breath. It was
another test, to see if she loved me and she failed miserably. If she loved
me, she would of lived. But she didn't, she left me all alone to face life
for the next 60 years and I hate her. I sat by her hospital bed for 12
straight hours while machines kept her alive & I begged her to live. But
she didn't. I thought we'd get through everything together. But as usual I
was wrong. I don't think I could face life without her, her last laugh rang
in my ears & the last thing she said to me played on my mind. A car
accident, a car accident that not only took my soulmate away from me, but
snatched the rest of my life away by putting me in a wheelchair making sure
I could never wrestle again. I sold the car once it had been fixed up. To
try and get rid of the memories. That accident had taken my freedom and
her life. Sometimes, late at night, I wish I had died. I'm useless now, I
had no purpose in life. My purpose had been to love her, now that had been
taken away. Sometimes I'm so lonely voices from my past ring in my head
forcing me to remember and it hurts. So I go back to that night & I cry
myself to sleep. You'll probable think I'm pathetic, but put yourself in my
shoes, what would you do? I was happy, now I'm sitting in my wheelchair by
my bedroom window trying to get cool. Matt had fallen asleep hours ago. He
came in and asked me did I want to go to bed. It was far too hot, my T-
shirt was stuck to my back with sweat. I was fanning myself stack of
letters I'd been reading. I looked at the road outside and saw a black car
race down the road and suddenly disappear. I shook my head, damn it! I was
losing it. I wheeled myself over to my mirror. Matt had stuck pictures all
round the edge of the mirror for me, he'd tried to cheer me up. But it made
me feel useless, I needed Matt or my Dad for everything. I wanted to go to
bed, but sleep never helped me forget, it made it worse. Took me back to
that night and forced me to relive what happened, and no matter how much I
screamed the outcome was always the same. she was gone, end of story. She
was never coming back. I'd thought about suicide, but it was useless. I
couldn't reach the cabinet for pills, I couldn't reach the razors above the
sink and I couldn't drive a car off a bridge. The irony of it was
laughable. My heart has grown cold & my mind full of bitterness. Whenever I
saw two people walking down the street holding hands and kissing, flaunting
their happiness in my face, I want to scream. I want them to know what it's
like to have part of you ripped away. Matt didn't know it, but deep down,
in the depths of my cold heart I hated him. He had someone he loved . He
didn't flaunt it in my face, but Amy still came around & everyone could
tell they were in love. Matt & Dad tried to understand, but they were sad
seeing me upset, not sad for what I'd lost. I'd cry, but I'm too tired. I
couldn't even be bothered to go wake Dad up to help me into bed. So I
simply went back over to the window and fell asleep there.
I wheeled myself in with the bunch of white roses on my knee. I hated the graveyard, but besides home & the hospital I was usually here. The stone lions at the gates scared me. They supposedly protected the souls of the dead, but they scared me. The whole place seemed grey that day. It fitted perfectly with my mood. I found where I was going and sat in front of the stone for a while before placing my flowers down. I always read what was written on the white marble stone, hoping one day the letters would change and it would say someone elses name instead of hers, of course they never did & never would. Valentine's Day, poetic really. Valentine's Day, she died on that damn day. Someone once told me god works in mysterious ways & it takes time for us to see why he does certain things. But I'll never see why he took her. The whole thing reminds me of Romeo & Juliet, except Romeo is alive missing his Juliet so much it hurts to breath without her. I realised I was crying, again. Everytime I come here I end up at odds with myself. Part of me hates her for leaving me, the other part still loves her a weeps for her. I suppose both parts of me love her, they just have different ways of thinking. I think since it happened, my sanity is....non-exsistant. I seriously was losing it. I couldn't live like this anymore, whatever 'this' was. I use to think I couldn't live without my coffee of a morning or my hair dye. But now I can't live without hearing her voice or seeing her face, but I have to. I stared at the headstone one more time and closed my eyes hoping from the bottom on my broken heart the words would change. They hadn't. It had been a long shot.
As I stared at the ceiling that night in bed a million thoughts raced through my head like a movie. Things we'd done together. Remembering gave me a hollow ache in my chest. Iburied my face in trying to block the memories from my head. But it was useless. I could still see everything that had happened imprinted in my mind. It was then I reailased not only my heart was shattered. But my sanity and it would be forever.
I wheeled myself in with the bunch of white roses on my knee. I hated the graveyard, but besides home & the hospital I was usually here. The stone lions at the gates scared me. They supposedly protected the souls of the dead, but they scared me. The whole place seemed grey that day. It fitted perfectly with my mood. I found where I was going and sat in front of the stone for a while before placing my flowers down. I always read what was written on the white marble stone, hoping one day the letters would change and it would say someone elses name instead of hers, of course they never did & never would. Valentine's Day, poetic really. Valentine's Day, she died on that damn day. Someone once told me god works in mysterious ways & it takes time for us to see why he does certain things. But I'll never see why he took her. The whole thing reminds me of Romeo & Juliet, except Romeo is alive missing his Juliet so much it hurts to breath without her. I realised I was crying, again. Everytime I come here I end up at odds with myself. Part of me hates her for leaving me, the other part still loves her a weeps for her. I suppose both parts of me love her, they just have different ways of thinking. I think since it happened, my sanity is....non-exsistant. I seriously was losing it. I couldn't live like this anymore, whatever 'this' was. I use to think I couldn't live without my coffee of a morning or my hair dye. But now I can't live without hearing her voice or seeing her face, but I have to. I stared at the headstone one more time and closed my eyes hoping from the bottom on my broken heart the words would change. They hadn't. It had been a long shot.
As I stared at the ceiling that night in bed a million thoughts raced through my head like a movie. Things we'd done together. Remembering gave me a hollow ache in my chest. Iburied my face in trying to block the memories from my head. But it was useless. I could still see everything that had happened imprinted in my mind. It was then I reailased not only my heart was shattered. But my sanity and it would be forever.
